


Not a marrying man

by redsnake05



Category: The Grand Sophy - Heyer
Genre: M/M, Regency, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason why Cyprian Wychbold isn't a marrying man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a marrying man

"Well, it's time you were thinking of getting married: offer for her! I shall be much obliged to you."

 

"Almost anything else for your sake, dear boy, but I ain't a marrying man!" said Mr Wychbold firmly.

 

…

 

Late that night, coming home from a convivial card party, Cyprian looked in the mirror with shadowed eyes as he tugged his cravat loose. Not a marrying man! Indeed, and where should he look for the cause of that? He dropped his cravat to the floor and unbuttoned his collar, his mind drifting back to school and a young Charles Rivenhall.

 

He wasn't sure at what stage of their friendship liking had turned into lust, but it had. He could remember various incidents – swimming in the river at Oxford had been a particularly memorable one – but not the essential moment. There was no point teasing himself over it anyway. Charles Rivenhall was strictly forbidden, and Cyprian had been denying himself for so long it was second nature now. He faced with equanimity Charles's impending nuptials, even if they were to that tiresome Wraxton chit. In fact, with her encouraging him to be a disagreeable, mirthless tyrant, he was finding it easier by the day to resign himself to forget. Or he did, until the Charles he knew slipped out. Then he would find himself staring hungrily at Charles's thighs and back as he laughed and splashed himself with water after a bout at Jackson's Saloon, or captivated by his hands as he reined in his curricle.

 

…

 

Matters continued in this unsatisfactory vein for some weeks. Cyprian went about his business as he had done for years, enjoying the company of friends, flirting with all the prettiest girls, and only thinking of Charles in the privacy of his lodgings. Late at night, alone, he sipped brandy and indulged his heart in visions of Charles, sweaty from a round in Jackson's saloon or laughing at a joke in Cribb's Parlour.

 

This particular night, his hands strayed over his nipples, imagining Charles biting them. His hands ran over his chest, imagining Charles's hands holding his shoulders while his tongue traced his throat, over his collarbones, down to his stomach. He trailed his fingers softly over his cock, imagining Charles stretched out in front of him, on display while Cyprian sampled flesh from various spots, listening to Charles whimper at one touch, gasp at the next. He imagined sucking slowly, langourously on Charles's cock. He grasped his cock and thrust hard, thinking desperately of Charles bending over him, Charles rubbing their bodies together.

 

He slowed down and let the images wash over him. In his imagination, Charles had his legs over his shoulders and was stoking oil over Cyprian's aching cock and down to his opening. He stretched Cyprian, a little roughly, barely preparing him before thrusting into Cyprian's body. He thrust again and again, careless of Cyprian's legs getting squashed, but Cyprian didn't care. He fisted his cock in time with Charles's thrusting, getting closer and closer to the edge before flying over, come spurting up his chest.

 

Cyprian drifted back to awareness, ruefully surveying his messy body. As he rubbed himself off with a cloth, he tried not to imagine Charles doing it for him and curling up against him when done.

…

 

One day in the Park, Sophy introduced him to a few of her Peninsula friends. She laughed and said:

 

"Now here is a man with a good leg for a boot! It's a shame he's too busy dancing to consider the military as a career."

 

"Really, Soph- I mean, Miss Stanton-Lacy, you might consider the cut of my coats, which holds me back at least as much as my love of dancing," he replied.

 

"Oh, don't worry about calling her Sophy!" said Lord Wolvey merrily. "Everyone does! She is far too much the Grand Sophy to be burdened with being a miss"

 

"You are a shocking quiz, Francis. You will be giving Mr Wychbold quite the wrong impression of me!"

 

As Wolvey and Sophy trotted easily side by side, Cyprian fell back with his companion, Colonel Debenham.

 

"Sophy is the shcoking quiz, I fear," Debenham said with a rueful smile. "I quite shudder to think what she has told you about us."

 

"She is the most alarming young woman of my acquaintance," replied Cyprian. Debenham's moustache quivered.

 

"Alarming is one word for it. Yet you do have a good leg for a boot, so she is not untruthful. I think I have seen you with a pair of chestnuts?"

 

"Yes, indeed. Lovely pair."

 

At that moment, Sophy called for them to join her. Debenham smiled.

 

"We must all of us obey her commands," he said, with a droll look. "Before we are thrust into her latest scheme, may I invite you to a card party I am having tonight? There will be no dancing, I fear."

 

"Honoured," replied Cyprian. "As well as dancing and my coats, I am rather finicky about my cards and wine, thus I fear military life would never suit me."

 

"At 8, then. I have lodgings on Half Moon St, no 22."

 

…

 

Debenham's card party was convivial, the play being interesting, the converstation merry and the wines excellent. By the end of the evening, Cyprian bid farewell to his host on a first name basis.

 

"Au revoir, Phillip. I shall look for you in the Park tomorrow."

 

"Goodnight, Cyprian, I shall not indulge my hopes that it will be early."

Cyprian walked home, humming gently and not thinking about Charles at all.

 

…

 

Thoughts about Charles were at the forefront of his mind the next day, however, having met him in the park and seen him astride his bay, handling the animal with casual ease and wearing a new and rather form-fititng pair of breeches. Cyprian listened rather abstractedly to a few pungent animadversions about Sophy and was sharply recalled to his surroundings by a hail from Phillip.

 

"Good morning, Cyprian, Rivenhall."

 

"Good morning, Phillip," replied Cyprian, merrily, "you see I can get up early and take exercise."

 

"Debenham." Charles clipped the greeting out and turned immediately back to Cyprian. "I'll meet you at Manton's at 4, then, Cyprian. Servant, Debenham."

 

Phillip watched Cyprian watch Charles ride off, noting the slight wistfulness on his face, the way it lingered on Charles's wide shoulders. Cyprian returned to himself with a start, and turned to Phillip.

 

"There had better be room at Manton's. I despair of Charles's temper if he doesn't get to shoot something."

 

…

 

Cyprian continued the season; card parties, his clubs, Almacks, balls, galas, routs, expeditions and all the amusements the ton could provide were taken up, and he contrived to entertain himself creditably. He met Phillip often.

 

"I must go down to the ancestral home, Phillip. Some business about the West Field. Would you care to accompany me?"

 

Phillip paused in the act of pouring a glass of brandy. They had walked to Cyprian's lodgings after an insipid ball and Phillip had come inside. Cyprian had removed his neckcloth and was leaning against the mantle, warming his back at the fire. Phillip turned.

 

"Indeed, Cyprian, I should love to. But-" he paused, thinking.

 

"But what, my friend?"

 

Phillip moved to the sofa and seated himself, absently warming his brandy.

 

"Cyprian, when we first met I noticed something about you."

 

"Was it the set of my coat?"

 

"Perhaps your incurable frivolity!" Phillip retorted. "No, it had more to do with the way you looked at Charles Rivenhall."

 

The popping of logs on the fire was the only noise to break the silence. Phillip looked up to see Cyprian covering his eyes.

 

"I was in the army for nine years, Cyprian. Campaigning in constant fear of death. Do you think I would not see the signs, when I've been there myself? When I am there again, with you?"

 

Cyprian looked up sharply at this, but did not speak.

 

"I would indeed like to accompany you to your home. Nothing would afford me greater pleasure than to be in your company. But I shall not so it as Rivenhall's substitute, nor with you in ignorance of my desires."

 

The room was again silent. Phillip finished his brandy and stood.

 

"I shall not stay. You know where to find me, if the invitation still stands."

 

…

 

The next day,. Phillip received a card at his lodging, bidding him to a small card party at Cyprian's lodgings. He turned the card over in his hands, wondering what it meant. His heart beat a little faster, hoping that it meant the invitation stood, and that Cyprian would be in his arms. His head argued caution, and tried to prepare for more pessimistic outcomes.

 

He was let into Cyprian's lodgings and heard no hum of chatter. His heart leapt and he strode quickly through the door. Cyprian greeted him from the table, where he was engaged with a guttering candle. Phillip surveyed the shy smile and forced himself to stay where he was for the moment.

 

"I'm glad you're here, Phillip."

 

"You thought I might not come?"

 

"I thought perhaps I had dreamed the whole."

 

"Never."

 

A silence fell. Phillip looked away and Cyprian finished with the candle and came to stand in front of him.

 

"Well, Phillip. I have never done this before. Let me run through my plans with you and see if you can spot any flaws that might result in our unmasking."

 

"Plans?" asked Phillip, startled.

 

"Plans," confirmed Cyprian, with a mischieveous smirk. Phillip willed himslef not to pounce on Cyprian there and then.

 

"Tell me your plans."

 

"Supper will arrive soon. I have sent my valet down to my home to collect some documents. He is furious that the groom was not sent, and I will be fortunate indeed if he does not leave my service. He was, perhaps, a little mollified when I assured him that I needed someone with his skills and intelligence to read the papers to make sure they are the right ones. I hope he never finds out that it was a ruse, no one else could understand my collars so well."

 

"Dandified jackanapes! Your valet thus disposed of, what else have you planned?"

 

"My bed freshly made, cans of hot water waiting."

 

"You think of everything, Cyprian." Phillip's hands reached out, catching Cyprian's. "Are you sure?"

 

"I haven't thought of Charles in a long time. It's your face I see, your love I crave."

Phillip tilted Cyprian's face up and moved in for the slowest, sweetest first kiss. Cyprian's fingers shook as he reached up to touch Phillip's face. They pulled back, and it was all Phillip could do not to drag him back into his arms for another crushing kiss. Cyprian was breathing heavily, his face flushed, his smile shy.

 

A knock on the door startled them into pulling further apart and Phillip moved over to stir up the fire as Cyprian called for the servitor to enter with the supper.

 

..

 

Supper had been delicious; the wines excellent. Neither Phillip nor Cyprian drank much or ate much, but their fingers brushed everytime they filled up a glass of wine or passed a serving dish. Finally the covers were removed and the servitor left for the last time. They finished the last of their port and stood, Phillip heading for the hearth. He held his arms out to Cyprian.

 

"Come here," he said.

 

Cyprian crossed the floor and stepped into Phillip's embrace. He was shaking a little, but gradually stopped as Phillip rubbed soothing circles on his back and whispered gently in his ear. Cyprian tilted his head up and their lips met. The kiss started gently, with warm tongues tangling with each other. Phillip held Cyprian's face gently and Cyprian slid his hands down Phillip's arms, over his shoulders and down his back before resting them on his back. Feeling bold, Cyprian pulled Phillip closer, revelling in the feeling of Phillip pressed against him from head to foot, enjoying feeling Phillip's erection through his pantaloons.

 

"Can I?" muttered Phillip, pulling back from ravishing Cyprian's lips and moving his hands to his cravat. Cyprian nodded, and the folds of cloth dropped away. Phillip's fingers brushed under Cyprian's ears and Cyprian shivered as he lifted his face to be kissed again. This kiss wa a little hotter, a little wetter, and Cyprian skipped Phillip's coat buttons free and slid his hands over Phillip's waistcoat.

 

"Phillip, can we… I mean, should we… um, bed?" gasped Cyprian, blushing shyly.

 

"Yes. Whatever you like," replied Phillip. Cyprian smiled and tugged Phillip through into the warm bedchamber. Once there, he started to remove his clothes, but Phillip stilled his hands and kissed him sweetly.

 

"Wait. Let me do this for you. Watch me first"

 

Phillip pushed Cyprian to sit on the edge of the bed and tugged off both pairs of hessians first. Then he shrugged off his coat, laying it gently over the back of a chair so it wouldn't crease. He removed waistcoat, cravat and shirt before removing his pantaloons. Cyprian's breath caught as Phillip was finally naked in front of him. He reached out and trailed his fingers down Phillip's chest as Phillip applied himself to Cyprian's buttons. Cyprian helped eagerly, wriggling on the bed to facilitate removal of all his clothes. Finally they were both naked.

 

Cyprian's breath caught at the first touch of their naked bodies together, and he arched up into Phillip's body. They kissed again, then Phillip pushed Cyprian back and kissed his way down his neck and across his chest, sucking on each nipple in turn. He looked up into Cyprian's face and pulled away gently.

 

"Cyprian, I need to… I mean, is this your first time?"

 

Cyprian flushed red and nodded shyly.

 

"Oh, my dear boy. Would you…." Phillip licked his lips and tried again. "Would you like to fuck me?"

 

Cyprian's eyes grew impossibly wide and he nodded nervously.

 

"I don't know what to do," he said.

 

"I'll show you," replied Phillip.

 

He did, starting with the careful stretching of his body with oil while Cyprian watched, fascinated, stroking Phillip's cock and his own. Cyprian thought he might burst when at last Phillip pulled him down on top of him and he felt himself sliding into Phillip's responsive body.

 

It was better than he ever could have expected. He looked down at Phillip for reassurance.

 

"Move, Cyprian. I want you so much."

 

Cyprian moved, sliding his cock in and out in long thrusts. He wasn't going to last very long, watching Phillip wrap his hand around his cock and pull gently in time with Cyprian's thrusts. Cyprian's thrusts grew more erratic and forceful and he could hear Phillip moaning underneath him, and could hear his own groans and grunts. He felt Phillip shudder under him, body clenching in long spasms, and felt his own climax race towards him.

 

They nestled in each other's arms as Cyprian slid free of Phillip's body. Phillip ran his hand over Cyprian's back in long, loving strokes and Cyprian snuggled closer.

 

"Phillip, that was amazing."

 

"I'm glad you gave me a chance to make it amazing."

 

"Does this mean you'll be coming to stay with me at the ancestral home?"

 

"Have you thought of a reason for your valet to stay in London yet?"

 

"I will think of many reasons. After all, I need to be a more regular visitor to my home."

 

"I will be delighted to accompany you any time you wish to go."


End file.
